I'm seven years old now!

Yesterday was my seventh birthday! What did Mom do? She posted a baby picture of me on her Facebook page. I really was a cute little thing!

Mom and Dad got a pizza for dinner, and that's better than a birthday cake IMHO. I love, love, love pizza. And I got to go for a ride in Mom's car when we went to pick it up! Win, win! 

Sometimes it's hard to make a day seem special. Sure, it was my birthday, but I don't feel any different. Should I? I've never been seven before so I don't know. 

Mom says I might have to eat different food now, something made for mature dogs. I'm not sure what that means but I know I don't like the sound of it. Special food? Do they make pizza-flavored dog chow? Now that would be special!

Like I said, I got to go for a ride, but other than that the day was pretty normal. It was really cold outside and my paws don't like cold ground. I made short work of things every time I needed to go out, which Mom really appreciates. She doesn't like the cold, either. 

I guess being seven is okay. There's only one other option and I'm not ready to leave Mom and Dad yet. We have a good pack. We each have our place in it. I'm really lucky that way because I know some dogs never get to be part of a pack. 

I might have a few more gray hairs on my chin, but I'm Deuce! There is only one me, chin hairs and all. Mom says I'm irreplaceable. I think that means that Mom loves me a lot. It's really good to be seven and understand these things. 

Greenbrier Smokey Deuce, black Labrador Retriever, good dogs, rural living, black lives matter, a writer's life